


Her

by 1VulgarWoman



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Three Year Gap (Dragon Ball), Vegebul
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-09-30 18:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17229002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1VulgarWoman/pseuds/1VulgarWoman
Summary: "Seducing the woman had never been part of his plan. It was a distraction he couldn’t afford, and with no purging missions to keep him moving about from place to place, who knew what she might come to expect from him afterwards. He couldn’t risk it, at least not until after he achieved the legendary. Could he?"Three-year gap story, from Vegeta's POV. Smutty, but not PWP. Will be two to three parts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Writing a 3-year gap fic seems to be a right of passage for new Vegebul authors, so here's my take before I get back to the MANY AUs I have planned. Be advised that the Explicit rating will be earned. Thanks for reading. ;)

“What’s it like to die?”

The ghost of a wound above his left pectoral throbbed briefly. Vegeta resisted the urge to rub it. 

He supposed it was the purple liquid the woman was swirling around in her glass that made her even bolder than usual. Her sparkling eyes had become slightly unfocused, watching him with a serious expression that looked foreign on her delicate features. 

It’s your own fault, Vegeta chastened himself mentally. He had let the woman become too comfortable around him for his good or her own. He shouldn’t even be here now, reclined on the plush leather sofa in the lounge with one long, slender leg slung over his lap. Perhaps he should just leave without giving her an answer, retreat like the coward he undoubtedly was to the gravity room to train himself into exhaustion. 

Instead, he watched as the flickering light of the muted TV played over the expanse of her porcelain skin. Her cropped tee and obscenely small shorts didn’t hide much. 

“I can’t remember.” 

The words hung in the quiet air like a mist hovering between them. Vegeta braved a glance at the woman from the corner of his eye, not wanting to see her pity. It wasn’t pity he found, though. She merely looked thoughtfully up at him, the rim of her wine glass pressed against her plump lower lip.

“Do you remember coming back?”

He grunted, lifting his chin. 

Yes, he remembered that part well. Even for a hardened warrior such as himself, waking up in a shallow grave was a sensation not soon forgotten.

“Where you scared?”

Vegeta felt his muscles go rigid. He hoped the low light would hide the rising warmth in his cheeks.

“W-woman, what is the meaning of all these absurd questions?”

Bulma leaned away from him then. Good, he thought. She was finally going to leave him in peace. He refused to let himself feel disappointed; that would be absurd. 

She didn’t leave, though. As quickly as she leaned away, she was back, her empty wine glass safely deposited on the coffee table. She scooted closer, and Vegeta looked down at his lap to avoid her penetrating gaze. When had his hand moved to rest on her knee like it was the most natural thing in the world? His fingers twitched involuntarily, lightly brushing over that impossibly soft skin.

“Don’t be mad.” Her tiny hands wrapped around his bicep as she leaned so close her hair tickled beneath his chin. “I just…”

She trailed off with a sigh. 

Vegeta took in her downcast expression and released a sigh of his own. He was going to indulge her again. Of course, he was. 

“You just what, woman?” 

Bulma perked up a little, but her expression remained serious. 

“I was just wondering, in case —when the androids…”

Oh. So that’s what she was getting at. 

An image of Bulma lying face-down in a pile of rubble, crimson blood staining her porcelain skin flashed before his mind’s eye. It was accompanied by a strange tightening in the pit of his stomach that he brushed off as indigestion. 

“There are far worse fates than death.” 

His voice was so soft he wondered, at first, if her pathetic human ears had registered his words. She hummed softly and pressed her soft cheek against his shoulder. Her cool breath fanned across his neck. 

It was strange, Vegeta thought, that he was still sitting there, allowing this weak little female to invade his personal space. Gods, she was practically in his lap, and yet he felt strangely relaxed. Content. It was an odd feeling, somewhat unpleasant in its newness. 

There was nothing unpleasant about the soft skin beneath his fingertips, though. Nor the sweet, floral aroma that emanated from her hair; nor the gentle brush of her fingers over his arm. 

Not for the first time, he imagined gathering her tiny frame against him and burying his face in each pulse point on her body in turn until he was high on her scent. 

“Vegeta?” 

He grunted. 

“Can I touch your hair?”

His eyes, that had been starting to flutter slightly, flew wide open.

“W-what? Why would you want to…?

The ridiculous woman had the nerve to giggle at his scandalized expression. 

“Oh, relax, would ya? The texture’s so different than a human’s. I’m just curious.”

Vegeta grunted again, eyeing her through narrowed lids. 

“Very well. If you promise not to ask me any more stupid questions.”

Bulma smiled then, and the answering palpitation beneath his ribs took him by surprise. 

“What about intelligent questions?” She fluttered those wispy blue eyelashes at him.

“That’s it,” Vegeta huffed, pushing her leg off of his lap so he could stand. “I’m going to bed.”

Bulma’s pathetically weak grip on his arm tightened. 

“No, no, no! Don’t go, please.”

Vegeta gave her a long-suffering look, making a great show of grunting in annoyance as he allowed her to pull him back down on the couch. She settled against his side again, this time with her toes tucked beneath his thigh. 

“Fine. No more questions. Tonight.”

Vegeta sighed at the caveat, crossing his arms and fixing his scowl off to the side. He couldn’t let her see how much he enjoyed moments like this, with her. Couldn’t let her gain the upper hand. 

Long nails scraped against his scalp as her fingers slipped between the coarse strands of his upswept hair, and he felt his insides quiver. 

Who was he kidding? He’d lost the upper hand with this woman a long time ago.

“I like your crazy hair,” Bulma whispered, laying her cheek against his shoulder as her fingers trailed down to the nape of his neck. “I like a lot of things about you, Vegeta.”

He felt his face heat up as her wine-scented breath warmed his bare chest. Walking around in nothing but his training shorts had never bothered him before, but Vegeta was beginning to feel almost uncomfortably exposed. He both hoped that she would continue and prayed that she wouldn’t. 

Her tinkling giggle tickled his sensitive ears. 

“You’re blushing,” she observed, lifting her head to get a better look. “You know, you’re really handsome when you blush.”

Her fingers brushed over his burning cheek, and he quickly swatted them away. The desire to lean into her touch was becoming too powerful. If he didn’t stop this now, things could too easily get out of hand. 

“All right, woman. I’m going to bed.” 

Bulma giggled again. “Can I come?”

The heat spread all the way to his ears. 

“No, you may not c—“ 

Her giggle blossomed into a full-blown laugh as he sputtered indignantly. 

“I’m going to my bed, and you’re going to yours,” he clarified with a huff. 

Brushing Bulma aside with only a mild pang of regret, Vegeta stood, fully intent on leaving the intoxicated woman behind. 

“Vegeta?”

He turned back without consciously deciding to. Bulma’s mirth had subsided into a sleepy super as she slumped against the back of the sofa, eyes half closed. 

“Will you carry me?”

He grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have legs, woman?”

“Everything’s spinning,” Bulma groaned, throwing an arm dramatically across her eyes. 

Vegeta released a frustrated growl but reached down for her, tossing her effortlessly over his shoulder. Bulma’s surprised squeal was all the protest she seemed capable of making. Her body hung limply over his as he started up the stairs. 

Vegeta had chosen to carry her like this so he wouldn’t have to feel her burning blue gaze on his face the entire way, but he was beginning to think he had miscalculated. Her plump behind was nestled practically against his cheek, the tiny shorts she was wearing having ridden up to expose a tantalizing glimpse of satiny skin. He wanted to turn his head and give it a good nip. 

His hands were wrapped around her bare legs to hold her in place, and her soft breasts were pressed against his lower back. He wondered if he could reach down and adjust himself without her noticing. She seemed pretty out of it. 

A sharp pinch to his backside nearly made him jump out of his skin. 

“Has anyone ever told you you have, like, the cutest butt EVER?”

Vegeta could only stutter in shock as he, thankfully, crossed the threshold into Bulma’s room. 

She hit the bed with a grunt as Vegeta tossed the rumpled comforter over her, covering all that tempting ivory flesh before stomping out of the room. He needed to put some distance between him and the woman so he could process the evening’s revelations in solitude. 

Alone in his bathroom, he turned the shower on, letting the water heat up as he shucked his sneakers and training shorts. 

He paused for a moment before giving in to the urge to study his reflection in the full-length mirror. Staring at his own naked form felt strange at first. It wasn’t a practice he was accustomed to, having decided long ago that if he relied too heavily on his looks to sustain his pride, he would be left disappointed. 

He was painfully aware that he was short, especially for a Saiyan, but his body was well proportioned and his muscle mass had increased significantly in his well-fed months on earth. His chest and back were crisscrossed with a patchwork of scars, silent witnesses to a life of pain and struggle. Blemishes, perhaps, but if the woman’s weakling ex was any indication, she wouldn’t mind them. 

Though he certainly wasn’t pretty like Kakarot or Raditz, he supposed his visage was…acceptable. Kind of goofy-looking in his own opinion, but the woman had called him handsome, said she liked his hair, and — other things. 

She’d been more direct with him tonight than ever before. Oh, she had always flirted with him, in that vulgar way of hers, but Vegeta was finally beginning to catch on that the woman might be truly attracted to him. 

It was such an odd feeling, being desired. He’d lain with females in the past, of course, but none had ever been quite so forward. Or so beautiful. 

His mind took him back to the first time he had seen the blue-haired woman. In the midst of all the chaos on Namek, she had seemed so out of place. Had he ever seen a female with such exotic coloring before? He couldn’t recall. Most likely not. He’d avoided glancing in her direction to keep from staring. 

And then they’d arrived on earth, and she had noticed him, singled him out. From his place stood apart from the crowd, she had called to him. The beautiful woman had spoken kindly, if rather boldly. Smiled at him. Called him ‘cute’ in front of everyone. 

His cheeks had burned that day with the first of many blushes she would humiliate him with in the coming months. As vulgar and as loud as she was, unwilling roots of respect and admiration for her had already begun to take hold inside him. Now, he begrudgingly admitted that he thought more highly of her than of any other living soul. She was absurdly intelligent, fiercely determined, and brave to the point of stupidity. But he respected the hell out of it. 

Had she been born into the body of a warrior, she would have been a force to be reckoned with indeed. Even weak and soft as she was, she had contributed more to that silly little band of earth special forces than most of the actual fighters, from what he’d gathered. But instead, nature had seen fit to wrap a warrior’s spirit in silken skin and rounded curves — all part of some wicked plot to keep him awake at night, painfully hard and wanting. 

Seducing the woman had never been part of his plan. It was a distraction he couldn’t afford, and with no purging missions to keep him moving about from place to place, who knew what she might come to expect from him afterwards. He couldn’t risk it, at least not until after he achieved the legendary. Could he?

He was reasonably confident in his ability to pleasure a female. Anything Vegeta did, he made it a point of Saiyan pride to do well, and he had never had any complaints in the past. Still, this was Bulma, not some random serving woman on a remote PTO base he would never visit again. If he embarrassed himself, he would have to face her every day for at least the next two earth years until the androids arrived. 

But the thought of her delicate hands on his touch-starved skin, the intoxicating scent of her arousal, and the perfection he was sure lay beneath the meager scraps of material that passed for female attire on this planet gave him pause. 

His hand wandered down the hard, flat expanse of his abdomen to sooth the ever-present ache that had plagued him since the woman had come into his life. He glanced over his reflection once more, and his lips quirked up in a wicked grin. His stature below the belt had certainly never given him cause for shame. 

Vegeta stepped into the steaming shower with a sigh. Against his better judgement, he let himself imagine what might have happened if he hadn’t rebuffed Bulma’s silly, drunken request to come to bed with him. Would she be naked beneath the hot spray with him now? Would it be her soft little hand, and not his own calloused one, that pleasured him? Or better yet, her mouth?

He groaned aloud at the lewd image and let his head drop back against the tile wall, thoughts of the woman sleeping across the hall driving him beyond the edge of sanity.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry this took so long, guys! I spilled water on my laptop and fried the poor thing with half the chapter on it. What you see here was written entirely on my phone and is my second attempt. I’m not 100% happy with it. In fact, it’s probably complete garbage and is basically gratuitous smut. Mostly. Probably. 
> 
> Writing their first time was WAY more pressure than I had expected! You just know it had to have been EPIC, and I really wanted to do that justice. Hope you guys aren’t disappointed. *author hides under a blanket* 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

Vegeta was a creature of habit, of routine. Predictability had been a luxury denied him for too many years under Frieza, and it was one of the things he enjoyed most about his life at Capsule Corp. 

He rose early each morning to find coffee and breakfast awaiting him in the kitchen, after which he made his way out to the Gravity Room to train. Exactly six hours later he would break for his midday meal.

More training.

Another meal.

Bulma. 

Somehow or other, in the months since he’d been on earth, the woman had managed to become a predictable part of his daily routine. He wasn’t sure exactly how it had happened, but lately, he had found himself seeking her out after her parents had gone up to bed. 

He had taken the time to shower before joining her this evening, slipping into a pair of grey sweatpants that were a size too big. They hung low on his hips, no matter how tightly he knotted the string. After an embarrassing amount of internal debate, he had forgone a shirt. 

Vegeta made his way through the quiet compound to the den, knowing Bulma would be there, no doubt indulging in one (or several) of her many vices. Alcohol. Cigarettes. Sugar. Terrible TV shows about feelings. 

He grinned as he rounded the corner and saw her sitting cross-legged on the sofa, a tub of ice cream cradled in her arms. She was watching that hospital show again. At least he didn’t hate that one as much as the others. He liked it when they cut people open.

Bulma’s bright eyes lit up when she saw him, and Vegeta forced himself to look nonchalant. 

“Hey, you! Want some ice cream?”

He shrugged and sat down beside her. 

“I brought you an extra spoon.”

Vegeta experienced a pang of something he couldn’t define as he took the spoon from her delicate fingers. She knew he would come, or perhaps simply hoped, and had wanted to share something with him. It had been many years since anyone had treated him with consideration. He had no idea how to act, so he filled his mouth with Rocky Road and tried to avoid eye contact. 

Bulma didn’t seem bothered by his reticence. Come to think of it, she never did. Either she was a damn good actress (likely), or she actually understood him. (Less likely, but the possibility made something in his gut flip.) 

She closed the small distance between them to tuck herself against his side. The soft curve of her breast brushed against Vegeta’s arm, and he shivered. 

They finished the quart of ice cream in companionable silence as doctors in white coats argued and gossiped and fussed over bedridden patients on screen. 

When the carton had been emptied and discarded, Bulma rested her head on his shoulder with a delicate sigh of content. 

Vegeta didn’t know what to do with his hands. They lay clenched against his thighs like claws, tensing and flexing as he battled the feeling that his insides were trying to tear each other apart. He wanted to run. He wanted to stay. He wanted to push her away and pull her closer. Mostly, wanted to climb back into that shallow grave and never resurface. 

“Here.”

Her voice was soft and full of an understanding he couldn’t comprehend as she lifted his arm and draped it over her delicate shoulders. 

“Better?”

He grunted but didn’t take his arm back. This was…nice. 

Her hair tickled the bare skin of his arm and shoulder every time she moved. He could smell the floral shampoo she used mixed with the earthy, natural scent of her skin. Subtly, he turned his head so he could brush his nose over the wispy curls. 

“Vegeta?”

“Hmm?”

He jerked his head upright as she pulled away just enough to look him in the eye. 

“Do you remember last night…when I told you I like a lot of things about you?”

A knot of panic wrapped itself around his middle. He had half hoped she didn’t remember saying that, or anything else, to him that night. Did she regret it now? Was she going to take it back? Wouldn’t it be for the best if she did? 

“I do, you know,” she continued, letting her fingers trial sweetly along the skin of his side. “Like you, I mean.”

Run! Push her away. Hide, his mind screamed. 

He couldn’t afford this. It was a distraction and a disaster waiting to happen. 

Besides, he didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve her. What had he ever brought her besides, at best, inconvenience, and at worst, terror? 

But even as he waged a fierce war inside of himself, he knew it was no use. She had already won.

“I think you might like me a little, too.”

His eyes were caught by her blue gaze. Her expression was one of openness and sincerity as she tried to coax something out of him he wasn’t sure was in him to give. 

But she was just so, so beautiful. 

“Am I wrong?”

Vegeta’s lips parted, a denial poised on the tip of his tongue. He had to leave this room, maybe even this house. He had training to do. Goals to reach. His pride to uphold. His birthright to claim. 

But her intelligent blue eyes were searching his imploringly, and the words died on his lips.

And because she was beautiful and kind and brilliant and he could deny her no more, he kissed her. 

Vegeta swallowed her surprised gasp as he pressed his mouth to hers, relishing the sweet taste of her for the first time. So many months of lonely imaginings, and she tasted light years better than any of them. 

Fisting his hands in her soft curls, he parted her lips with his own, tasting the ice cream and excitement on her tongue as it slid against his. 

“Mmm…Vegeta.”

His ancestral name was more a sigh than a word falling from her reddened lips. He would make her say it again, over and over, until her throat was raw. He would make her scream it. 

Her fingers were on his stomach now, tracing the dips and swells of his abdominals, her pink-painted nails dragging across his skin. If those fingers ventured even the slightest bit lower, there would be no hiding the effect she had on him. The mere thought made him groan, a deep, needy sound he didn’t catch in time to stifle. 

Bulma drew back for air, face flushed and chest heaving. The naked want in her sparkling eyes made Vegeta’s chest ache. 

Bracing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed herself up until she was standing between his spread knees, silhouetted in the flickering glow of the TV. She gripped the hem of her tank and tugged it up and over her head, tossing it into some unseen corner. Her tiny shorts were next. She shimmied her hips as she pushed them down to pool around her ankles, baring herself completely to his hungry eyes. 

Oh, Gods. 

He drank in the expanse of her naked skin like a man dying of thirst. She was perfection his bloodstained hands didn’t deserve to touch. But touch her he would. 

Their gazes met and held as she leaned down to brace herself on his shoulders, lowering herself until she was kneeling over his lap with one knee on either side of his hips. The potent scent of her excitement hit him like a punch to the gut. Before she could lower herself completely, Vegeta hooked his fingers in the waistband of his sweats and pushed them down, kicking them off into the darkness of the room. 

His chest swelled at her little gasp of appreciation and the ravenous gleam in her widened eyes as he sprang free, slapping against the skin of his stomach. He was so hard it was almost painful, every inch of him throbbing to be inside her. 

The flesh of her hip was soft and supple beneath his fingers as he gripped it, holding her still as his other hand slipped between her parted thighs. 

He relished her needy whimper as his fingers found their mark. Fuck, she was wet already. Drenched. His fingers were instantly coated with her arousal, slipping inside her heat without resistance. 

“Kami, I’ve wanted this for so long,” she crooned in his ear, her long fingers tugging at the roots of his hair. 

A deep, possessive growl rumbled inside his chest. He could never admit to the woman that he had been in the same bind all this time. But, perhaps, he could show her. 

She was ready. He could feel her needy pussy fluttering around his drenched fingers already. Fuck, she was so responsive, so wanton. Vegeta had often wondered if her vulgar side translated to the bedroom, and he wasn’t disappointed. 

Bulma whimpered as he replaced his fingers with the swollen head of his cock. He grasped her hips to help guide her as she slowly slid down, taking him in an inch at a time. 

Vegeta grit his teeth as he watched himself disappear into her soft, pink folds. She felt so perfect, so tight, around him, he could already feel the promise of a heavenly release building deep in his loins. 

To distract himself, he let his hands and eyes roam the tempting curves of her body, slipping up her tiny waist to palm her breasts. He leaned forward to capture one dusky tip between his lips, savoring both her sweet taste and her plaintive moan. 

“Vegeta…”

Her hips were flush against his now, the heat of her overwhelming his senses. His hands found the plush curve of her ass as her lips descended on his, kissing him hungrily for a long moment before she pulled back to meet his gaze. 

Her face was flushed, blue eyes hooded lustfully, as her hands slipped from his hair to frame his face. She smiled. 

“You’re blushing,” she breathed against his lips as she soothed his heated cheeks with the pads of her thumbs. 

Vegeta’s retort died on his lips as she started to move over him, slowly lifting and lowering her hips. He wanted to look away, to break the spell her hooded blue gaze held him in, but found himself unable to. She had always been beautiful, but now, like this, she was a goddess. 

Her eyes soon released his to slide down to where their bodies were joined, and her hands followed, palming his heaving chest before sliding back up to grip his shoulders. 

With a fierce growl, Vegeta slid his hands under her hips, supporting her easily as he lifted her just enough so he could push up into her. He had been passive as long as he could, and now…He could only smirk as he hoped the woman was prepared for what she had gotten herself into. He had wanted her too fiercely for too long to be slow and gentle now. 

Bulma keened as he quickly seized control, fucking her fast and hard from underneath. Her expression transformed from surprise to bliss as she gripped his shoulders like a lifeline, rocking her hips against him and matching him thrust for thrust. 

The quiet chatter of the TV was drowned out by their collective moans, heavy, panting breaths, and the salacious slap of bare flesh. 

“Oh, shit…Vegeta, yes!”

He couldn’t stop himself from responding, his voice sounding hoarse and breathless to his own ears.

“That’s right, woman. Remember who’s cock is fucking you so good.”

“Fuck!”

She smiled around the expletive, a wide, toothy thing that he covered with a kiss as he stood, carefully depositing her beneath him on the cool leather. 

Pushing up on his knees, Vegeta paused for a moment to take in the picture she made splayed out, bare and panting, before gripping her hips with both hands, anchoring her in place. He pulled out of her dripping heat almost all the way before slowly, teasingly pushing back in. Her plaintive mewls and whispered expletives were music to his ears. He snapped his hips harder against hers, and she gasped. 

“Kami, Vegeta! You feel so good…It’s so fucking deep….”

With a broken moan, he resumed his near frantic pace. He knew he was being almost as vocal in his pleasure now as she was but couldn’t bring himself to care. She felt too amazing around him. Perfect. Like she was made for him. 

Her nails left angry red streaks down one of his thighs as the first of her tremors shot through her. He could feel it building as her walls milked him harder, drawing him instantly closer to the precipice of his own release. 

And he would be damned if he let himself beat her there. 

Bracing his weight with one hand beside her head, he reached down and found her clit with the other. 

Immediately, her thighs began to quiver around him, her cries reaching a fever pitch as he thrust frantically against her. 

There was no more finesse now, no more grace. Only heat. Sweat. Skin. Just two people desperately chasing release together. 

“Oh, shit, Vegeta! I’m coming! I’m…ohhhh!”

“Bulma!”

His arm gave way as he roared his own release, collapsing against her softness to burry his face in the crook of her neck. 

Her hands soothed his sweat-dampened hair away from his face as he slowly came back to himself. 

“That was…amazing,” Bulma breathed between panting breaths. 

“Mmm…” he hummed in response. Not quite an admission, but not a denial either. 

Bulma didn’t seem put off. On the contrary, she wriggled her hips up against his until he, miraculously, started to harden again. 

“Wanna go again? In my room, this time?”

That quiet part of his mind that Vegeta assumed was his voice of reason tried to prod him again, insisting that this was over. He’d had her. That should be enough to get her out of his head, to cleanse her from his thoughts and dreams. 

But all the reason and logic in the world wouldn’t stop him from taking her again. Not now that he knew how good she felt around him, how incredible it felt to have her come apart all over his cock.

Fuck, he was doomed. 

In a flash, he was standing with the woman’s wriggling body draped over his shoulder, heading for the stairs. 

Bulma shrieked and kicked playfully, giggling like an idiot the entire way.

Against his will, Vegeta felt his lips try to curl up in something dangerously resembling a smile, and he punished her with a sharp smack on her bare behind. Of course, this only brought on another round of giggling. 

Unable to help himself any longer, Vegeta let the wicked chuckle building in his chest escape as he crossed the threshold to the woman’s bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, them watching Grey’s Anatomy together may or may not be a hint about an AU idea I have in the works. ;)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, the smut in this chapter mutated into a giant plot-eating monster, so I’ve added to the chapter count. Somebody please stop me. 🙈 
> 
> Also, I can’t for the life of me get this thing to italicize anything, so there may be some things that would have made more sense italicized. My apologies.

They collapsed side by side in the tangled sheets, a mess of sweat-slicked skin and panting breaths.

Vegeta glanced over at Bulma with a satisfied grin. She looked so blissful lying there with her eyes closed, lips curled up in a happily sated smile. Every inch of her fair skin was flushed save for a cluster of fingertip-sized bruises blossoming over her hips. She was practically glowing in the soft morning light.

I did that, he thought with a surge of pride.

He watched, entranced, as her eyes fluttered open, fixing on his face. The always bright blue was luminous, brilliant.

Thoroughly ravished was a good look on her, he decided.

“Holy shit, we’re good at this!” she exclaimed, rolling to tuck herself against his side. “If I had known it would be this good, I would have jumped you a lot sooner. Like, back on Namek sooner. Fuck.”

Vegeta chuckled. His imagination immediately conjured an image of Bulma in that yellow tunic and black tights “jumping him,” as she had put it. In his fantasy, the tunic was bunched around her waist and the tights were around her ankles as he took her from behind on Namek’s bluish grass.

“Wow. We stayed up all night.” Bulma yawned sleepy against his neck.

Vegeta turned his face towards the windows to see that the sun had indeed risen. He should already be downstairs finishing up his breakfast by this time, ready to resume his training.

With a frustrated groan, he turned away from the window to stare up at the ceiling. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think about training, didn’t want to face yet another day of frustration and failure. He felt like a god in Bulma’s arms; out there, he was always second best.

Bulma rolled onto her back, arching in a deep, catlike stretch.

“I think I’m going to nap for a few hours before I start my day. You’re welcome to stay and nap with me, if you want.”

Vegeta eyed her warily as he pondered her offer. He might be lacking motivation this morning, but discipline and self-denial may as well have been his middle names. Besides, the idea of sleeping beside the woman was…perplexing. He would have to think that over later.

“Ick,” Bulma groaned. “I should definitely shower first, though. I’m all sticky.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up as he rolled onto his side to better observe his handiwork painted on her soft belly and inner thighs. His scent was all over her, mingling with the heady aroma of her own drying arousal. It made something primal, almost animal, surge inside him, filling him with the urge to hold her against his chest and blast any male who dared come within looking distance of her. Of his woman.

His woman? Where did that come from?

Well, she certainly wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he, for the time being. He would want her again, preferably without the scent of other males spoiling his enjoyment. That was all.

And he would make sure she knew it.

Taking her delicate wrists in each of his hands, he pinned them to the pillow over her head as he hovered over her. He took her swollen lips in a deep, bruising kiss before pulling back just enough to whisper against her mouth.

“Don’t bathe,” he commanded, pinning her down with his gaze and his hands. “I want to know that you’re drenched in my scent all day while I’m training.”

“Mmm…”

She squirmed under him, a fresh wave of her arousal scenting the air.

Vegeta chuckled to himself. The woman seemed to enjoy it when he overpowered her. Vulgar little thing.

“I want you to feel it drying on your skin and remember who you belong to now,” he rasped against her parted lips.

Predictably, her eyes flashed with a hint of defiance that made his blood boil and his cock twitch.

“And what if I wash it off anyway?”

Vegeta shrugged, releasing her to push himself off the bed.

“Let’s just say good girls get rewarded.”

“Hmf,” Bulma huffed, crossing her arms over her naked chest. “You are such a caveman.”

Vegeta didn’t know what that meant. She’d probably intended to insult him, but she hadn’t gotten up to bathe, he noted with a smirk.

He opened the bedroom door to find a pile of folded clothes at his feet. A fierce blush spread all the way to the tips of his ears as he realized Bulma’s airhead mother must have found these things in the den last night. So much for discretion.

With a growl, he picked up his sweatpants and pulled them on, throwing Bulma’s tank and shorts over his shoulder as he stomped out of the room.

~ 0 ~

Vegeta banged his forehead against the wall of the gravity room, leaving a dent in the cool metal. Blood trickled into his eye, and he sighed, feeling foolish as well as frustrated.

Another day with nothing to show for it. He was getting closer. He could feel it. But every time he felt that endless well of power bubbling up beneath the surface, it managed to allude his grasp. Each time, he felt more and more like a failure.

Vegeta had felt inadequate his entire adult life. He had never been strong enough to avenge his people or free himself from Frieza’s clutches, and now he couldn’t achieve something a mere third-class warrior had long mastered. Why hadn’t they just left him in that shallow Namekian grave if this was all there was for him? Disappointment and shame and humiliation.

It was late. He had trained through all three of his meal times, and his body was starting to feel the lack of nourishment.

Vegeta wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand and trudged toward the kitchen.

Most of the lights in the house were off, the inhabitants already retired for the night. But he could sense Bulma’s minute ki in the den and knew she was awake.

His footsteps accelerated. There was one person in this universe who he felt like a whole man around, and he wanted to feel that. He wanted it badly.

He went to the kitchen first, knowing he would need energy for what he had planned for the evening. There was a plate waiting for him in the microwave. Without bothering to heat his food, he pulled it out and sat down at the bar to eat.

Bulma must have heard him because she entered a moment later, her eyes widening at the blood on his face.

“Kami, Vegeta! What did you do to yourself?”

He muttered something noncommittal about training and turned back to his food.

Bulma disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a wet cloth and a first aid kit. He pretended to ignore her while she cleaned the blood from his face and dotted antiseptic above his eyebrow.

“The cut isn’t big. It just bled a lot,” she explained once she had finished.

Vegeta grunted, shoveling down his last few bites of pasta.

His eyes followed Bulma as she leaned over the sink to rinse the bloody cloth. She was dressed in only an oversized t-shirt with a pair of lacy panties peeking out from underneath. He wanted the freedom of losing himself in her again. He craved it.

He drifted up behind her and buried his face in the mass of curls at her neck, filling his senses with her scent. His hands slipped beneath the hem of her shirt to grasp her hips, pulling them back to meet his as he rubbed his hardening cock against the softness of her backside.

With a hungry moan, he used one hand to wrench her panties to the side while the other hooked in his own waistband.

“Wait,” Bulma groaned, reaching back to grab his wrist. “I don’t think I can tonight. Too sore.”

Vegeta growled in frustration but obligingly released his waistband, letting his forehead drop to her delicate shoulder.

His own stale scent reached him then, and he remembered his earlier demand.

Dropping to his knees, he let his nose trail along her side and over her hip, inhaling with a gratified smile.

“Mmm…I see you decided to be a good girl, after all.”

Without giving her any warning, he stood, spun her around to face him, and hooked his hands beneath her thighs. He lifted her easily until her legs hooked over his shoulders, supporting her with his hands splayed beneath her hips.

“Agh!!! Vegeta, what the — oh!”

Her protests turned to moans as he lazily dragged his tongue along her seam, circling her clit but not quite touching it.

“Oh, shit, that’s nice.”

He looked up her body to see her biting her lower lip, her head thrown back against the upper cabinets she held onto with both hands. After a few moments of his tender attentions, she tangled one of her hands in his hair, holding him in place as she tentatively started moving her hips against his mouth.

Surrounded by her creamy thighs, sweet, plaintive whimpers, and the taste of her essence on his tongue, Vegeta forgot his frustrations, his inadequacies, and his failures. Bulma filled all five of his senses until there was no room for anything else. He gave himself over to it, letting himself get lost in everything that was her.

“Vegeta!”

She was looking down at him now, her glowing eyes hooded, pupils blown. He removed one hand from her backside and trailed it up her front, taking the hem of her t-shirt with it until he was cupping her bare breast.

“Kami, that’s so hot! I’m so close…”

She let go of the cabinet, letting him support all her weight with one hand, and — gods! — she was loving it, reveling in his strength. Getting off on it. Fuck.

He rolled her pebbled nipple between his thumb and forefinger as his tongue drew fast, tight little circles over her clit — a combination he already knew would send her over the edge.

She cried his name again as she came, tugging on the roots of his hair so hard it actually hurt a little. He was already achingly hard, and the slight pain combined with the blissful contortions of her face when she came had him throbbing.

He pressed one final, feathery kiss to her pink center before tugging her panties back into place. Gently, he lowered her until she was sitting on the counter, her knees flanking his hips. Her arms snaked up his bare chest to frame his face, and she pulled him close for a deep, probing kiss, tasting herself on his mouth.

Her tongue slid against his, making him groan as he tried to hold himself back from grinding against her.

“Kami, that was amazing,” she breathed as they finally came apart for air. “Thank you.”

Vegeta shrugged off her thanks, though he was inwardly preening.

“I told you good girls get rewarded.”

“Oh, I can be a very, very good girl.” She wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

“Tch. Now you say that.”

Bulma giggled as he scooped her up in his arms, carrying her bridal style to her bathroom. He placed her carefully on her feet before turning on the shower.

Once they were undressed and under the hot spray, Vegeta grabbed the bar of soap and lathered it between his hands. Pulling her back against his chest, he rubbed away (with mild regret) the evidence of last night’s tryst.

As soon as she was clean, Bulma turned to face him, a wicked smirk showing off the sweet dimples at the corners of her mouth.

“Now,” she purred, splaying her hands over his slick chest, “let me show you just what a good girl I can be.”

Her knees thudded lightly against the tile floor, and Vegeta let out an embarrassingly load groan. She looked up knowingly as her hands braced themselves on his hips.

Mercifully, she didn’t tease or toy with him, didn’t make him beg. Those perfect, pink lips wrapped around him, and she sucked him into the heat of her mouth, laving along his length with the flat of her tongue.

With a muttered curse, he threaded his fingers carefully into her sodden hair. He was so turned on, he feared his knees might buckle. They almost did when she looked up at him with those bedroom eyes and slid him all the way to the back of her throat.

His hands clenched into fists before he could stop them, and he jerked them away, forcing them to remain still at his sides. To his dismay, she pulled back, letting him slip from between her lips with a wet ‘pop.’

“Don’t be afraid to show me what you like,” she coaxed, bringing his hands back to her head. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

There were several things in those statements he wanted to contradict, but as soon as her mouth was on him again, all thought ground to a screeching halt.

Tangling his hands in that glorious mass of blue hair, he guided her down until she had taken all of him. Her eyes fluttered a little but stayed locked on his as he moved her slowly against him, his broad upper body shielding her from the worst of the spray from the shower.

The sounds she made as she took him into her throat would surely haunt his daydreams for years. Tears streamed from her eyes, but he could smell her arousal filling the humid air, so potent he could almost taste it. One of her hands released his hips to burrow between her own thighs, and he knew he was done.

Before he could speak the words of warning that were on his tongue, he was already coming down her throat, his cries of ecstasy echoing within the tiled walls of the shower.

Bulma drew in a deep, gulping breath when she released him, and a foreign sensation twisted itself around his middle. Something akin to concern.

“Bulma?”

She smiled up at him and used his arms to brace herself as she stood. He couldn’t help but cover that smile with kisses.

When they finally emerged from the shower, Vegeta made sure to reward her with a meticulous exploration of her body that, at last, left her blissfully sated among dampened sheets.

“Hey, Vegeta?” she asked after the initial fog of her orgasm had abated.

“Hm?”

“So, that whole caveman act this morning…You know, the ‘I want you to wear my come all day because you’re mine now’ thing…”

He couldn’t help but grin at her ridiculous imitation of his voice.

“That’s not exactly what I said, but what about it, woman?”

“Was that, like, your weird, alien way of asking me to be your girlfriend?”

Vegeta scoffed. “My what?”

“Your girlfriend,” she continued, unperturbed. “It basically means you don’t want either of us to do this,” she gestured between their naked bodies, “with anyone else.”

An official title had never been something on his mind, but he supposed it was true enough. Just the thought of any other male ever touching her again made him almost physically ill. But that was a train of thought he wasn’t willing to examine just now. Or ever.

“I suppose…”

“Great.” She answered simply, snuggling close to his side.

After a few minutes, a deep yawn escaped her, the hot air tickling against his chest.

“You can sleep in here, now that I’m your girlfriend and all.”

Vegeta stiffened, not entirely sure he was comfortable with the idea. Somehow, it felt more intimate than any of the things they had done to each other, and they had done quite a bit.

“I don’t, uh…why?” he stuttered.

Bulma sighed and moved lazily against him.

“People who are boyfriend and girlfriend just do.”

Vegeta grunted, not entirety convinced.

“Think of it like this,” she continued. “This way, in the morning , if we want to have a little fun before we get up, we can.”

He couldn’t argue with that logic.

“Very well.” He shrugged. “We can try it. But if you snore, I’m kicking you out of bed.”

“I do not snore!”

Her eyes flashed daggers at him, but they quickly softened when she noticed his teasing grin.

She rested her cheek against his chest, apparently settling in for the night. It wasn’t unpleasant.

“Saiyan mates slept back to back.”

“Hmm?”

Her sleepy eyes opened, fixing in his face.

“They slept that way to guard each other’s backs. Usually with their tails intertwined , or wrapped around each other.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet.”

He shrugged again.

“It was for protection.”

“Mm. But it’s also sweet.”

Vegeta scoffed.

“Are you going to run your mouth all night, or am I actually going to get some sleep?”

She laughed softly against his neck.

“Goodnight, Vegeta.”

“Tch,” he grunted in return.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One small baby step for the plot, one giant leap for Vegeta. And I just have to get it out there that writing smut from a guy’s perspective is KINDA SUPER WEIRD for me why did I do that to myself?!!! lol 
> 
> My next update might be a little longer in coming since I need to start working on something for the upcoming Vegebul Smut Fest. I’m thinking AU. What do you guys think? Cop!Vegeta, or NerdyProfessor!Vegeta? Hmm...

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr at 1VulgarWoman.


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